The Sun Will Continue to Rise
by CityTrain
Summary: Mild AU. Marian Hawke is studying to become a Magister under Magister Danarius and a certain elf's presence affects her studies. Twists and turns don't always happen for the best. F!Hawke/Fenris. Incomplete.
1. Chapter 1

_Thank you, MoonDragonLove, for once again being an amazing beta reader._

The wind in the willows rustled as Marian Hawke fumbled with the latch on the French doors that lead out to the balcony of her room. The glass door slid open and the salty smell of sea air swirled past her and filled her nostrils. She slid a booted foot out and squeezed herself through trying to make as little noise as possible; the mansion was as quiet as the Chantry during the twenty-second bell that night. Reaching the iron rail guard at the edge of the balcony she hoisted her foot on the top of it and launched herself off and landed with a _thump_ in the soft grass below.

Crouched down Hawke looked around scanning the garden. She was fairly sure it was clear and began to head through the garden walking as quietly as she could. The night was warm for the spring and she could hear the voices of the slaves in their bungalows as they settled in for the night. The candle light flickered in their windows as she crept along in the shadows. Hawke felt a small pang of loneliness seeing the families together - she hadn't seen hers since she was small.

At the edge of the garden was a decently sized pond where Hawke spent most of her nights alone. The large willows hung above the water and the ducks Danarius had purchased years ago slept quietly on the other side of the water. Hawke unlaced and removed her boots and stepped into the water. It was cool to the touch and somewhat refreshing in the night's warmth. Slowly she swirled the water with her foot as she stood in the shallow part of the lake and lifted the water with her magic. It rose in a small stream and flowed noiselessly as she moved it through the air.

For some time she stood there, practicing with the water. It had been difficult keeping up with Hadriana lately in class. Hawke knew it was never a good thing to fall behind the other apprentice.

The second bell from the Chantry chimed in the air by the time she left the pond and turned around only to ram into a solid object that let out a gruff grunt as she hit it. That object spoke, its voice deep and silken, "Mistress, I am sorry. I was sent to look for you since you are not in your rooms."

Marian looked at the elf, his head down and the lyrium on his arms glistening in the moonlight; Fenris stood before her.

"It is fine. I shouldn't have been out anyway," she mused. "Has Danarius's called for me so late in the night?"

"Yes, Mistress. Something has come up." Fenris turned and lead Hawke back towards the mansion which loomed above them even in the distance.

Fenris lead her through the winding halls that were all elaborately decorated with tapestries and paintings that displayed the Magister's wealth. The rugs were all from different corners of the world, each rivaling each other in both cost and beauty. Hawke watched Fenris push open the heavy oak doors that lead to Danarius's study.

Danarius sat there as calm,yet seemingly deceiving as ever with a small smile on his face as he gazed at both of them. Hawke forced herself into the room, noticing blood stains that looked fresh on the carpet as she sat in the chair placed in front of his desk. "What do you wish of me, Magister Danarius?" Hawke recited, not looking at his face.

"A letter came for you a few hours ago. Of course, I've already read it," he pushed it towards her, "It's from your father. He apparently thinks that not seeing you for fourteen years is now much too long. Since your testing for becoming a Magister is coming up, I think it would be most appropriate for you to wait to fulfill his request."

Hawke reached for the letter and unfolded it, but did not read it. "I would send him a letter back. You are dismissed when you are ready."

It read:

_Dear Marian Hawke,_

_I am sorry I haven't written to you before, but something urgent has come up. I believe I am dying a terrible death. I will not go into detail about it but it scares your mother and Bethany something fierce. Everyone, which is, your mother, Carver, Bethany and I all think it is time you return to us in Ferelden. We think it is appropriate for you to make this journey before I pass._

_Your father,_

_Malcolm Hawke_

Hawke stood, feeling weak left mumbling,"Thank you, Magister. I will take your words as law." Fenris closed the doors behind her.

IOI

Marian Hawke's earliest memory was of standing in her mother's kitchen and the tablecloth catching on fire and hearing her father yell, "I told you so, Leandra! She is a mage!" She then could remember being lifted on to her father shoulders with a squeal. Bethany had padded into the kitchen shortly after and raised her chubby toddler arms and demanded to also be picked up.

The next thing she could remember was a man that she thought stood as tall as a tree in her mother's living room. He had arrived in the middle of the night and her father had been extremely excited to see him again.

"Danarius!" He had called happily and clapped the man on the shoulder, "I'm glad to see you again."

"Do not make a show of this, Malcolm. You know why I am here," his voice had a hint of hidden cruelty.

Marian didn't remember the rest of the conversation, but she did recall being poked and prodded by the man called Danarius. The tests of magic he had her perform felt grueling for such a small child and when he was finally done she had wanted to sleep.

Her father had taken her outside the small cottage afterwards and sat her down. "Marian," she remembered vividly, "I want you to keep this. Remember your mother and me by it." In her tiny hand lay a silver necklace. The stone, a sapphire decorated with a lighter blue - lyrium she later discovered - that swirled around it, was held with the sliver. It looked like the stone was suspended by air and she could hardly tell where the silver touched it.

"It's something that you'll need someday," Malcolm smiled solemnly, a deep sadness in his eyes. He had looked down at her and gripped both of her arms, "Marian, listen to me. You're going to leave and probably never come back. But, remember, if you come back looking for us and we aren't here, go to Kirkwall. You'll find something there at least."

Later that afternoon she had been bundled into a carriage and never returned to the small village in the south of Ferelden. She grew up wondering if they were still there or maybe they had left for Kirkwall. Her father's letters never said otherwise until that last letter arrived in the spring.

IOI

Perhaps not even a week had passed before Danarius had told her in private that she needed a theory on magic to be presented to him by the time thirty days had passed. The morning after that, she would be taken to the stadium - it was commonly used for entertainment that involved slaves fighting to the death and those kinds of things - and there she would prove herself. By proving herself, she knew that it meant fighting another student that belonged to another Magister to the death. That night she listened to the twenty-second bell chime in the distance from the Chantry signaling that it was only a few hours away from midnight. The sweet tone floated over Minrathous, port town that was the capital of the Tevinter Imperium.

An owl, whom had made his home in the large oak that shaded part of the herb garden, hooted happily away as he had been since the sun had gone down. Marian Hawke grumbled and palmed her eyes; if she didn't get this right she was sure her teacher, Danarius, would flay her hide worse than a slave's. He had demanded that she and the other apprentice be proficient in herbalism.

The herbalism room - which used to be for storing wine - was big enough for several large tables, a pair of cast iron cauldrons, some herb rack, and a small fire place had been built on the eastern wall a few summers ago. Marian had some of the slaves bring in a book shelf which she crammed against the only open wall space next to the table by the window. She had stuffed it with the books she could find in the library on what she was studying.

"Else?" Hawke called for her softly. When she got no response, she looked towards the spare stool where she had her chambermaid waiting on her if she was needed. The elf girl, with her mousey brown features, wasn't there. "Where, by gods old and new... Oh. I sent her to bed and to send a replacement. Which isn't here yet, of course. Else probably had them get... where is my knife? I need to stop being so forgetful... I have to tell them to bring some more candles..."

Leaning over the table she began to shuffle around the objects. Mumbling once again to herself she shoved her hand under one of the books and accidently hit the blade of the knife hard with her hand. "By the Maker," Hawke cursed as she began to heal herself with the cool touch of magic. She grabbed the handle and moved to resume her project as she thought she heard padded footsteps in the hallway.

"Marian." The voice was commanding and made her jump and squeal, sending the small knife flying through the air in a spiraling arc over her head. It had made brief contact with her neck before it left her hand. She spun around quickly and stood facing Danarius's look that was questioning. "Where is your slave? I thought I told you to always have one with you." He seemed angry and Hawke suppressed a shudder of fear.

"I sent her to bed. I told her to send up another slave. The girl could hardly keep her head up. I wasn't about to put up with that." She slowed her breathing and spotted the knife resting on the floor. "And that was some time ago."

She grabbed the knife and resumed her work cutting up thyme. Glancing back over to the tome she read over the instructions for the third time and used a little bit of magic to increase the flames under the cauldron. She tossed the thyme into the bubbling liquid.

"I noticed the light under the door," Danarius stated. His robes swished as he moved further into the room and stopped when he stood next to Hawke. He looked down at her work and examined the mixture in the cauldron. "Less heat," he commanded, "and I could only think of one little bird who would be out of her rooms at this hour. If only Hadriana was as studious as you. She might then have a chance at being a Magister before she dies. This mixture won't do, Marian. You've ruined it already." His voice was thick in her ear and it made her uneasy.

"Yes, Magister Danarius. I will dispose of it. My failure shames me," she recited. Danarius had always demanded certain responses from his apprentices' when he spoke to them.

Danarius had always favored her over Hadriana. She was sure that wasn't a blessing, but more a curse. She had been raised by the man and knew his kindness always had strings tied to it. His ruthlessness had made Hawke a somewhat fearful person.

"Magister, I should look for my elf," she had tried to make an excuse to go and flee his presence.

"Nonsense. Use Fenris." She glanced behind herself to make sure he was in the room. Hawke hadn't noticed him come in with Danarius. The elf's footsteps were always silent; he reminded her of a ghost and when his lyrium tattoos glowed, it didn't help that image.

"He's a lot better than that foolish girl you insist on using." Hawke tried hiding a look of surprise with looking at her tome again. Fenris was Danarius's personal bodyguard and never went anywhere without him nor were they ever separated it seemed. She considered it an honor to a small degree.

"As you wish, Magister." Danarius began to walk away from her.

"Also, it's three leaves of elfroot, not two. That's what ruined it." The door shut heavily behind Danarius and the elf remained behind. Hawke looked at him and approached the elf nervously. She had seen him ruthlessly murder the other contestants for those markings that graced his tanned skin only a few years prior. His hair had fallen out in clumps afterwards and grew in white. She remembered how his voice had deepened and she could swear that he always smelled like the burning residue from a lot of magic use.

"What do you need, mistress?" Fenris's voice was a deep baritone, smooth and warm.

Hawke smiled, "Candles. And when you're done with that: tea."

"What kind would my mistress prefer?" His eyes stared down at the floor and his shoulders were hunched. _Is he afraid? Probably. He_is _Danarius's._

"Peppermint. Bring two cups, not one." Hawke had a habit of trying to be nice to the slaves. _They deserve some kindness with the life that the Gods gave them._

"Of course." With that, he turned to leave and Hawke went back to her work. She had emptied the cauldron in a waste barrel outside and refilled it herself and when she returned the room was lit warmly with candle light.

Hawke quickly restarted and was soon bent over the cauldron, hard at work. The twenty-third bell chimed as she sniffed at the liquid and wrinkled her nose in distaste. It smelled foul. Next to her, Fenris had placed her tea softly on the table. The red teacup was steaming and filled to the brim.

"Mistress?"

Hawke jumped, startled. She glanced over seeing the elf, "Yes?"

"What would you like done with the other teacup?"

"I thought it was obvious. It's for you," Hawke smiled at him. Fenris could recall Else, her chambermaid, raving about how kind she was. He poured himself a small cup. Her kindness made him nervous. It seemed to him that all of the Magisters had strings tied to their kindness.

"Grab that stool and sit near me, will you?

She sipped at her tea, her eyes watching him sit on the stool. His shoulders were still hunched which made him look smaller than he was. White hair covered his face and his eyes were averted downwards, staring at the floor. The red tea cup was clutched in his hands, empty.

She moved to push her hair back over her shoulder. She had made a note that her necklace wasn't in its usual place and to check her vanity later.

"Fenris?" Hawke questioned, "Might I have a look at your tattoos?"

He rose from the stool. "Would my lady like me to undress then?"

She blushed, "No, your arm is fine."

Marian Hawke took a firm hold of his arm and felt him flinch at her touch with a slight jerk. "I'm not going to hurt you," she breathed softly as if she was trying to calm a wild animal. The lyrium imbedded into his skin was slightly raised like a bump and felt smooth.

She felt him trying to relax and the tattoos lightly glowed. It was even apparent through the light linen of his shirt. While it glowed, she felt a surge of magic awaken inside of her, part of the usual influence of lyrium which made her breath catch.

Hawke briefly saw a small look of fear on Fenris's face before he masked it over with the usual blank expression the slaves wore. Hawke pulled her hand away from his arm, feeling the craving for the power imbued onto his arm.

"Thank you, Fenris." Hawke moved back to her table and downed the cup of tea. Her head was spinning from the surge of power from the tattoos. The conductivity between his tattoos and her connection to the Fade was startling; she pondered the idea of using him for her study.

By the time the first bell rang from the Chantry, Marian Hawke was nearly furious with her continued failure with her herbalism. They both had been quiet since she asked to see his tattoos and he had kept her tea cup full; she had caught him drinking the tea also, but said nothing.

"Perhaps my mistress would like to go to bed?" Fenris offered, "Doesn't my lady have class in the morning?"

"I think so," she responded and followed him out of the herbalism lab.

IOI

Morning always felt like it came too quickly. Sunlight pooled in her bedchamber from the cracks in the silken curtains and the open windows let in the smell of the sea from the ocean that was close to the mansion. Her bed, stuffed with feathers, and covered in plush pillows was a delicacy that few had. The blankets were also rich with comfort much like the fire that had been tended throughout the night by the servants. The bedchamber itself was a mass of riches; rich enough to satisfy any Magister.

Marian Hawke was nestled into the bed, denying that it was morning already. A creaking noise came from the doorway as a slave slipped inside to wake her. She groaned and tried to hide her head under her pillow.

"Mistress? It's time to get up. Your lessons with Master Danarius are at the ninth bell," the slave was a small elf woman plain in her looks. Hawke thought that was for the best; a pretty slave girl was often used for unpleasant things.

"Thank you, Else. Start a bath, will you?" The slave girl nodded and set about her job. Hawke rolled over onto her side and pushed herself up and off the plush mattress. She had gotten to bed late last night with the help of Danarius's bodyguard, Fenris, whom had without being asked had started a fire, fluffed her pillows and had even tucked her into her bed.

It had felt like a dream in the small herbalism lab next to the elf. He had made her heart quicken and flutter. That elf was a distraction. Probably not a good one either. Their conversation, now that she had thought about it, was unexpected. Hawke pushed it from her mind as she slid into the scented bath. It smelled like roses mixed with sandalwood.

Breakfast was brought to her after Else had dressed her in deep blue robes with a gold colored belt. Else had insisted on placing her hair in a net that was at the base of her neck and was decorated in pale sapphires. Her face was painted lightly and her nails were manicured and lacquered to match her clothes while she sat at her vanity; the necklace wasn't there. Else had also insisted on this routine every morning; it was less extravagant than the one Hadriana tended to do and Hawke preferred it to be.

Shortly after the eighth bell had rung, Hawke left her bedchamber, silently wondering why Else had been limping slightly and her wrists were bruised. The girl had been quicker than usual despite these injuries. Hawke hoped that Danarius hadn't gotten to the girl after he had left last night.

"Marian!" The voice was thick and husky. Hawke lifted her head only to see Hadriana glide down the hall in her extravagant robes of purple and cream. The hood and hem were lined in fur and the belt was decorated in moonstones with amethysts. Inwardly, Hawke groaned. Hadriana was a terror to her on her best days; the days Hadriana wasn't in a good mood, usually someone suffered by her hand. She was cruel and deceitful like a true Magister.

"Good morning, Hadriana," Hawke nodded. The dark haired woman looked a lot like Hawke, except Hawke's eyes were more blue and her complexion wasn't as dark. They had been mistaken for sisters by visiting Magisters in the past.

"I saw that the elf Danarius favors put you to bed last night," Hardriana pried quickly. Small talk with her never happened when she wanted to know something.

"He was lent to me for help with my studies last night. Else isn't exactly the strongest woman," Hawke was short with her answer. She did not need her fellow apprentice assuming things and trying to make her confess to things that weren't true. The last time that had happen, she had been lashed hard enough she wasn't able to sleep on her back for a month. Danarius had also put her to work for a week out in the fields with the other slaves. He had told her that maybe some hard labor might set her straight and he didn't raise her to be such a disgrace.

"I see. Are you sure nothing-"

"Shut up, Hadriana. Stop assuming things about me. I know you have a thing for ratting people out," Hawke snapped.

"My, my, Marian," she cooed, "I would never do that." Her fake sympathy was sickening. Hadriana pretended to be wounded with a gesture like she was pained. "Marian, you know that I'm your friend and you can trust me," her lies were as plain as day. She adjusted the belt on her waist and messed with her robes as she spoke. "That elf is awfully handsome. I don't blame you if you took him to bed with you. I sure would." A lusty grin spread across her face.

"Um..." Hawke blushed a brilliant pink.

Hadriana winked at her and walked away saying, "There is no shame in it, Marian."

"That's not what happened," she spoke loud enough for the other apprentice to hear with a grumble.

"Keep telling yourself that!" Her wicked laugh echoed down the long corridor.

That day's lessons seemed to be going slower than normal. Eventually, Danarius had set them lose with learning a spell to make plants grow faster. It had proved to be a challenge when Hawke had put a little too much effort into it and her plant grew so large the pot it was in exploded.

IOI

By the time the sixteenth bell's noise reached her ears, Hawke found herself sitting in the west gardens underneath an oak tree. She was pouring herself over the book that had been written by Shartan, one of the people who had helped Andraste. A wicker basket stuffed with food sat near her.

A light breeze flew past her, shuffling her hair into her turned down face. She lifted a lithe hand to push back the offending stands. The long length of her black hair had been set loose that day; there had been no classes with Danarius for the past several days, so she hadn't bothered with it. She assumed the classes had been stopped due to trouble with some of the shipping companies he was involved with.

There also had been talk of a summer gala at the Hall of Roses in a few days; Hawke hoped vainly she would be allowed to attend. Sometimes Danarius had forbidden her and Hadriana from attending such events on occasion.

Hawke reached into the basket and removed an apple as she glanced up. Some of the slave children were playing across the garden under the watchful eye of the old elf called, Nana. Nana had been in charge of Hawke when she was small.

"Mistress? Where have you gone?" She could make out Else's voice which sounded afraid.

"I am over here, Else. What is it?"

"Master Danarius needs you."

"I'm coming. Take me to him," Hawke grumbled, pushing herself up from the ground. She pushed her things into Else's arms and headed for the mansion.

Danarius's study was a grand room; the floor was a dark wood, the walls lined with book shelves, the windows were decorated with red satin curtains and a large desk that was carved sat solidly in the middle of the room. She noted that the blood stains from the previous nights were gone. Marian entered the room as Else pushed the heavy doors open. "Here I am, Magister Danarius. I have come at your request." Hawke spread her robes and bowed into a curtsy. She noticed Fenris stood off to his right.

He looked at her and nodded. "Sit," he commanded, "You have heard that there is a gala soon, yes? Well, either way, you'll be going since you are close enough to being a Magister as it is. I have already told Hadriana she will not be attending - she's not pleased, but I do not care."

Hawke fidgeted in her chair, "Yes, Magister."

"There will be a dress maker in your room. I suggest you hurry." The dismissal left no room for her to say anything, but defiantly she spoke, "Magister, under your permission I would like to use your slave, Fenris, for my research for my study."

Danarius looked taken back briefly, "My, my little bird, so grown up and being so demanding already. I can see where you wish to go with this. I do suppose I can go without his... talents," a sickening smile spread across his face that made Hawke suppress a gag, "for you, my little bird."

Danarius stood and walked over to Hawke and laid a hand on her cheek and pulled her face up to look at his. She blankly looked at him, hiding fear in her eyes. "Do treat him well."

He walked away, "Fenris!" Danarius snapped, "You're to attend Marian for some time. Go on, the two of you," he sneered at Fenris then looked favorably at Hawke, "the dressmaker doesn't like to wait."

The two of them both fled as fast as they could at a walk out of the study.

IOI

_Dear Father, Mother, Bethany and Carver,_

_I will be leaving Minrathous in about two months at the most. Magister Danarius has informed me that I will be going through with my final tests and become a Magister starting today which is the first of Nubulis. I think that is Drakonis for your calendar. So, after Summerday in the month of Molioris (is that called Bloomingtide there?) I will arrive._

_Father, are you really not doing so well? I am greatly saddened to hear it. I hope that I will see you before you join the Maker at his side. Or better yet that it isn't serious and you will recover before I even leave Minrathous._

_Bethany and Carver I do hope your studies are going well. I would like to see them when I come to see everyone._

_Lastly, Mother, please keep everyone safe and healthy like you have been._

_With love,_

_Marian Hawke._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to those who favored, reviewed and put this on your alert list. I got excited about all of them. Once again, thank you MoonDragonLove for reviewing this. Enjoy._

The carriage jerked, bounced and twisted enough to make Marian Hawke nearly vomit all over Magister Danarius's new velvet and silk doublet. She grabbed onto the stuffed cushions tightly and leaned her head on the cool dark wood of the carriage trying not to be sick. Else, Hawke's choice of the slaves, had been stuck on the back plank with Fenris. She pushed a small lace fan through the window for Hawke who immediately began waving it with vigor.

"Keep it together girl," Danarius snapped as the carriage came to a lurching halt on the cobblestone pavers outside another mansion almost as large as his. It loomed above everything around it; the white washed walls shimmered in the setting sun which left long shadows in the gardens. Some song birds chirruped playfully in the fruit trees next to the large entry way.

Hawke could hear both Else and Fenris jumping down from the back plank. "Girl, don't you dare humiliate me." Hawke gasped as Danarius grabbed a fistful of her tight bodice and yanked her towards him. "You do one thing wrong and you'll hope I make a slave out of you by them time I'm done." Spittle landed on her face and she could feel her face twist in to terror against her will.

"Marian, turn around." As she did, she felt the laces of her bodice become loose and then impossibly tight, pushing her breasts up and squeezing her waist to an unnatural thinness. "Now, face me. Close your eyes," he sounded almost kind, as if he wanted her to be beautiful. _Only beautiful so I might make the kind of impression he wants to be made of me. A whore like Hadriana._ Hawke felt him add on more paint to her face and when he was done he held up a looking glass to her. She smiled. _Maybe not a whore? Maybe a respectable woman? Or just a pretty face more likely._

IOI

By Magister Danarius's command Fenirs stood on the outside of the ballroom floor watching Marian Hawke. He straightened his posture and adjusted his clothing. Hawke had pulled a passable outfit for any well off man out of an old chest. He had reluctantly put it on as she giggled and fixed his hair. Magister Danarius had raised an eyebrow at his appearance and Hawke had beamed up at him in her gown.

Smartly dressed elves carried trays that were filled with champagne flutes and expensive foods. Magisters' and their rich escorts spun on the light colored wood floors. Gold and white bolts of cloth hung elegantly from the ceiling and fell artfully to the floor. Large leafy plants that were in full bloom with exotic flowers had obviously been brought into just for the night sat on white cloth covered tables. A small pit orchestra was crammed in to the back of the room. _Magisters' and their parties._

For the first couple hours, from Fenris's post , he observed Hawke being gawked at by most of the men in the room and on one occasion he had come to her rescue. "Leave the Lady Hawke alone," he had growled at a pair of drunken men who had been trying to drag her outside while she flashed desperate looks towards the elf. Besides that incident she had been talking with numerous people and had been invited to dance several times. Danarius had disappeared with a young looking woman and returned without her. Fenris had noticed that there was blood speckled on his shoes.

The night slowly wore on for Fenris who knew the party would end by the time most of the guests had found a room to retire and would slip out in the morning. It would obviously be an overnight event for Danarius and by default it would be for Hawke also.

Hiding a yawn, he scanned the crowd for Hawke only to catch her slipping out into the gardens with a tray of well stacked food and a pair of wine bottles tucked under both of her arms. He watched her glance around as she slipped into the shadows, the green and white silk of her dress nearly invisible along with her. With a groan for her antics, Fenris snuck along behind her.

From the time he had been in Danarius's servitude, Hawke had been increasingly known among the other elves for her odd habits. There had been laughter in the kitchen when one elf had seen her wearing pants and playing with daggers in the middle of the night. Another topped that story of seeing her set loose spiders into Hadriana's room. Those stories kept coming: getting drunk in the cellar, playing with the elven children... Fenris wasn't sure what to think of the strange girl who was studying to become a Magister.

He slipped behind her - he only did because of Magister Danarius's orders - feeling his shoes sink into the grass. She, with obvious practice, moved quietly in the dark until she came to a large tree that was surrounded by some flowering bushes. It reminded him of the children who still played in the foliage back at Danarius's mansion.

Hawke plopped wine bottles down in the grass and settled in with her stash of rich foods. The elf heard an audible sigh from the young woman. He watched her with trepidation and worried that she would give off once again what he felt like was false comfort. The night alone with her in the herbalism lab still made his skin itch when he found himself thinking of it. Fenris caught himself musing about her advances and the result left him with a sick feeling in his stomach.

"What are you doing, Lady Hawke?" His deep voice made her look up at him.

"Avoiding the. . . Barbarism that'll probably start happening pretty soon. I have no stomach for their Blood Magic rituals and whatever else they're going to do." Hawke crinkled her nose and made a sour face at Fenris. It was uncomfortable how she immediately treated him like a friend, not a lyrium-lined slave. "Where I'm from all of this is illegal which sounds idealistic sometimes."

"So you're not one for parties and their games?" He mused aloud at her. She grinned wildly, white teeth gleaming.

"And they're poor company, too! All rich folk talk and no fun." The cork made a loud _pop_ as she pried it loose. "Plus, I don't like being treated like a whore. Magister Danarius _insisted_ on fixing my appearance. This is much more Hadriana's thing than mine," her laughter was like little bells tinkling in Fenris's ears.

"Don't stand there and look like a fool. Sit. I have food and wine." Hawke giggled again. It was apparent that she had been drinking most of the night. He uneasily sat beside her and felt himself becoming nervous once again with her casual behavior. _She's more friendly than she was in the herbalism room. Likely loosened form the drinks. What does this damn woman want?_

He felt her shove the wine bottle into his hand. Fenris without thinking took a deep swallow and passed it back to her, feeling the numbing buzz in the back of his brain. Roughly, Fenris shook his ghostly locks trying to chase the feeling. "Hit you pretty good, too?"

"Hm."

"You know, I'm not gonna do the things they do to you. I can't stand that behavior," she pushed once again for his friendship. He looked at her. In the moonlight he could see the honesty in her eyes and the desire for his companionship. Uneasiness towards Hawke made him scoot back a little.

"That's what Hadriana said before she claimed I attacked her." Anger flashed across his face. Thick black eyebrows knitted together.

"Of course she would," Hawke scoffed. "She's a spoiled brat. Danarius isn't going to let her take the test to become a Magister so he can keep her for himself." Her eyes widen as she realized what she said. Fenris's eyebrows unknotted themselves to they could rise high on his forehead.

"Figures." He reached for the bottle and ignored the fact he was acting out of line with Danarius's prodigy who was also speaking poorly of her fellow student. _Did only a few swallows of wine turn me into an idiot? Not as much as her though._

Hawke sniggered and pulled the stolen food over towards Fenris. "Go ahead, I'll share. It's not fair what Danarius does to you elves." It sounded like she was baby talking him.

Without thinking he dug right into the food and Hawke downed another swallow from the bottle. She reached for the other bottle and pulled it closer.

For quite some time they both sat there, becoming drunk and stuffed on expensive foods. It was oddly relaxing to have the mage's company. The night was warm and the noise from the party was distant. A thin cloud of fireflies buzzed around their heads.

Eventually Fenris felt a pink cheeked Hawke leaning against him. Her head was nestled on his shoulder and her hair tickled his nostrils. The elf tensed feeling the mage girl leaning on him but relaxed as the alcohol mixed with his reaction to her presence. He hardly noticed or even tensed that time when she interlaced her fingers with his. Fenris idly mused that he must be drunker than he thought.

Fenris's thoughts were fuzzy along with the edges of his vision. He felt like he had no control over his body since that first swallow. It didn't surprise him when he watched his hand rise of its own accord and lift Marian Hawke's head up so he could gaze into the pits of deep blue. His eyelashes brushed his blushing cheeks and he pressed his chapped lips onto her swollen red ones.

Hawke's eyes widened and slowly lowered her eyelids and settled into the drunken kiss. Affected by the wine she felt herself kissing back, her fingers lacing themselves into his hair and the other hand pulling him closer.

They pulled away from each other and Hawke slurred, "I think I like that, Fenris."

IOI

In the next few days that followed the party, Marian Hawke found herself looking forward to her work with Fenris. At first, it had been awkward and uncomfortable. It was apparent that both of them remembered their night together in the garden.

She had been unable to look at him with pink cheeks until she had blurted, "I'm sorry. It was inappropriate for what I did-"

"We both are at fault, Lady Hawke." Fenris had interrupted her, "And quite drunk, too." The subject was left alone, much to Hawke's disappointment. _Marian! It's improper to be thinking this way of a slave. Magister Danarius's favorite, none the less._

It didn't take long for her to become caught up in her study and most of the nights were silent between the two. On occasion she performed a small test on him that usually failed which fueled her determination. It only took her a week before she was obviously prepared to work with Fenris. He noticed he didn't mind her being that close to him anymore and fondly thought of those hours together when he fingered her necklace in the dark alone. There was still the nagging voice in his mind just to leave it be and abandon all hope. She was a mage after all and him a slave.

Neither of them noticed Hadriana lurking around the door frame into the study.

IOI

_Dear Marian,_

_It made all of us so happy to receive your letter. Unfortunately, I don't think your father has another six months left in him. He has grown pale and thin. It pains me to see him this way. I think he will hang on until you arrive. We are all impressed that you are almost a Magister!_

_With love,_

_Your Mother, Leandra Amell-Hawke_


	3. Chapter 3

**Many thanks to my lovely boyfriend for editing this for me and giving me wonderful ideas and feedback. And, thank you to my readers, the single reviewer and those who added this to their alert list! Sorry this took so long. Sometimes thinking is easier than writing.**

In the weeks that followed Marian Hawke's studious evenings with Fenris left her with feelings of heartbrokenness and a deep melancholy. It was an undesirable ache that settled deep into her chest and no matter what she did or what she told herself, it would not go away. It made her want to vomit.

The library, which she was using for her study had been rearranged. Some of the large oak tables were pushed together to form a large desk and two off to the side held a stack of books and various supplies. Hawke had a team on slaves move everything and even some of the large bookcases which nearly toppled onto them.

She sat in a large plush chair that nearly swallowed her frame. Hawke eyed Fenris, hiding her face in a book, who was pacing up and down across the table from her. It had been difficult hiding her feelings since that night in the garden; being alone with the slave was pure ecstasy to her. It had been a crush that turned into a pure addiction and she guessed he felt the same. Or, perhaps it was false hope on her part.

"Fenris," her voice firm and commanding, "come here." The elf glanced over at her, nodded and moved, shoulders hunched and snow white hair hung solemnly over his eyes. He looked thinner than usual and he was sporting a large welt on his right arm. Hawke felt herself filling with sympathy and the desire to help him. She knew Danarius would hurt her if she did.

"Yes, Lady Hawke?" He tamely spoke when he stood before her. His eyes were glued to the floor. Hawke idly wondered why he had reverted back to his slave act when he had been showing who he really was to her.

"I think I have this figured out. Early too, by a week. I think I can conduct magic through your tattoos and pull the energy I need to supply myself. You know, if this does work, it might change magic use in the Imperium," her eyes hid a shadow of sadness as she mumbled, "It might stop the use of blood magic..." She was obviously talking to herself.

Hawke shook her head and glanced down at her notes scribbled onto a scroll of parchment. She scanned them and glanced over at the several large tomes scattered on the table. Talking to herself again she made some more notes and then looked up and grinned wildly at Fenris. "Ready?" Her eagerness was overwhelming.

"As much as I'll ever be," he spoke with reluctance in his voice. Hawke stood and grabbed his wrist tightly. He felt the burning sensation of her magic flow across the lyrium melted into his skin. She watched him bite his lip out of nervousness and she could see small flickering lightning bolts flicker from his finger tips. "What on...?" He whispered, eyes widening.

It was frightening - but still exciting - to see magic coming from Fenris's own hands, even though he was not the one doing it. _This is just amazing! Perhaps I can put an end to the way the Imperium works and prove mages' aren't evil. So many of us could be happier with my discovery. Bethany wouldn't have to live in fear._

"Hm!" Fenris grunted as the flow of magic rapidly pulled out of his skin. Hawke was using the lyrium to supply herself now. Marian Hawke couldn't believe the amount of magical energy she was receiving from Fenris. A ball of electricity appeared in her palm that was a dangerous size and it was flickering wildly.

She stopped the spell suddenly. They both stood there in surprise, neither believing. Hawke released his wrist, grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him into a kiss out of pure happiness with her success; her euphoria was so consuming! Fenris's eyes widened then narrowed in anger.

Fenris roughly grabbed her shoulders and threw her against the table behind her. She saw the pure hate in his eyes towards her as she landed with a groan, slumped against the table. Hawke poked ather ribs. _They're broken. At least two of them. Damn, he's stronger than he looks._

She looked up, rejection and pain on her face as his reaction sunk in. It was like feeling destroyed and defeated all at once.

"Don't you ever do that again, mage," he growled, looking bigger than he was. Fenris's anger terrified her. "I _hate _your kind. You're all the same. Full of lies and hate. You, Hawke, just want to use me like Hadriana and Danarius!" He roared at her as she flinched, anticipating a blow from him.

"Your study is over. I have done my part. I will tell Danarius that my part is done." He flipped around, stormed out and toppled a bookcase in the process. It landed loudly as books flew everywhere and the bookcase cracked with a groan from the old wood.

Marian Hawke pushed herself up and placed her head in her hands. Warm tears formed quickly in her eyes. _Andraste's ass, Marian! You're a fool. A slave could never love you. Oh, but I wish he did. Damn him and these parts we play. _

She slowly pushed herself up and moved back into the chair. The mage quickly felt desperate to forget what had transpired. Fenris's reaction to her advances was disheartening. Hawke ignored her ribs as she sat down in the chair and assumed it was a punishment from the Maker himself for trying to ignore social norms.

IOI

Danarius looked up from his half-moon spectacles as Marian Hawke dropped her research on his massive wooden desk. An amused smirk and a chuckle from the man made her feel proud. "A week early, Marian? I'm impressed. You remind me of myself when I was about to become a Magister. Well, there is the tournament next weekend. I'll sign you in for it then." She faked a smile, her ribs still aching from Fenris's attack on her.

"Magister Danarius, what does this tournament entail?" He looked up at her fully and smiled.

"Why my dear, it's a fight to the death. Didn't you ever wonder why there aren't many new Magisters'?" He laughed cruelly. Hawke gulped loudly and looked away, avoiding looking at Fenris who stood against the wall. He glanced at her, eyes full of repressed hate.

"I'm sure you can fill in the gaps yourself my dear. Let me look over this tonight. I'm excited to read this. Off with you now. If you see Hadriana, send her to me. That girl has been nothing but trouble today."

"Of course, Magister Danarius," Hawke nodded and left, noticing new blood spotson the rugs. The heavy doors closed behind her and she grimly looked at the servants who manned them. They looked hungry and worn.

For some time, Hawke wanderedthe halls that eagerly showed off the wealth of Magister Danarius. Elves were scattered about, cleaning the floors and things on display throughout the halls. She ignored them as she walked.

"Marian!" A singsong voice called out from behind and the sound of heels on the hardwood floor made Hawke cringe. _Hadriana. I hope she breaks her ankle in those shoes._

"Hadriana," Hawke spoke without any emotion. Hadriana stood before her, like always, decked out in riches. She looked like a child's doll that morning; too many frills and enough make up for a woman in a brothel without any of the porcelain beauty the dolls would've had.

"Oh, Marian! You're almost a Magister! I'm quite jealous of you, really. And Fenris, too. My, it's quite the little secret you two share. Kissing in the library and all of that alone time. It's quite the affair really," She flipped the long hair over her shoulder as she casually spoke like they were the best of friends. Hadriana always made sure to speak about what she wanted to hear.

"Fenris? What are you speaking about? I have been using him for study, but nothing else Hadriana. I am not one to use slaves as bed warmers, unlike you," Hawke hid a smirk on her face. Hadriana tried to not look scandalized but instead laughed as if it was a joke. It made Marian grimace.

"What nonsense!" The other apprentice cackled loudly. "But, really, I did see the two of you in the library. I thought that, oh, maybe, _Magister Danarius_, would love to hear of this. Something might happen to _poor_ Fenris when he does."

If Hawke had never understood what Hadriana was capable of, she now did. She bit her lip roughly and cursed roughly under her breath. _Andraste's damned... I can't let this happen. I either threaten her back or let her blackmail me. Or, I blackmail her back. I need to protect Fenris if I can, but... By the Maker, Marian, you messed up there too. Best thing you can do is protect him now._

"What do you want, Hadriana?"

"Why, my dear Marian, I want Fenris himself. And you are going to make that happen."

IOI

Fenris wasn't kept with the other slaves, in fact, he had a small chamber. It contained a worn bed, some blankets and a pillow. The walls were a smooth grey stone and a small window at the top of the wall let in light. There was a chair placed in the corner along with a bucket for washing and a chest that held the clothing that belonged to him. Hidden in the cracked bottom was Hawke's lyrium necklace that he stole in the herbalism lab after she accidently cut it from her neck.

As wrong as it felt for him to have it, he kept it. Fenris knew that Hawke's feeling for him he returned in secret. Against what his heart said he had tried turning down her advances. _At least she should live a good life. Danarius would sell her into slavery if something serious ever happened between us. I think the thing in the library scared her off._

It wasn't exactly a safe haven for him in his chamber. Hadriana had made a habit of visiting him and being a terror. "You want to sleep, little wolf? Are you hungry, little wolf?" She would ask him in a sickeningly sweet voice. A few times, she had struck him but had stopped when she was asked if she knew anything about the marks on his body. Of course, Danarius visited too...

The night Hawke had kissed him in the library he had laid curled into a ball on his bed and softly sobbed himself to sleep. He assumed Hawke had done the same when he overheard Else's concern for her mistress's well being had been poor for a few days. She looked hollow when he stole glances at her. It was like the life had been sucked from her soul. Fenris had mentally kicked himself every time he saw the mage; guilt was a new feeling for him and one he hoped would be for the best.

The elf laid stretched out enjoying his time alone. Danarius had dismissed him for the night and the following day then sent him into the kitchen so he would stop fainting. He dined well that night on the leftovers from the party celebrating Hawke's week before she would be forced to fight to the death for a title. _The cruelness of the Magisters' at its finest. _

In the distance the Chantry bells rang. _Ding dong, ding-. . ._ His door scrapped open, "Fenris? I'm sorry to both-"

"Lady Hawke," Fenris sat up, disgruntled at seeing Hawke at his door.

_Ding dong, ding dong. . ._ She stood there looking worn and tired. Her blue eyes looked glassy and red as if she'd been crying. It was wrong to see someone like her in such pain. Pain he had caused her.

"I'm 'ere to apologize. Hear me out, I am sorry. I will not let my f-feelings for you show anymore. It was w-w-wrong of me to even try anything. Forget what had happened. It never will again." Her voice sounded like she was trying not to cry and this seemed odd of Hawke. It struck him odd that she was still treating him like he was a person. _Ding dong._ She sniffed and looked regretful as she stared at his face briefly. _Ding. . ._ Her soul was breaking and so was his.

Before he could speak the door closed. _Ding dong._ Fenris swore he could hear, "Good girl, Marian," from the hallway. He reached for her necklace and groped it tightly to his chest.

His sleep didn't come easy that night and his dreams haunted him with Hawke's glassy blue eyes.

IOI

The morning of Marian Hawke's final exam to become a Magister - the fight to the death in the arena - left her with no time to think about the fate that awaited her. Else had woke her up at sunrise to a hot bath and scrubbed the mage raw. Her hair was braided tightly and coiled on the back of her head. Hawke dressed into a pair of thick leggings and wore a shirt that was thick and snug fitting. She was then covered in light amour and a leather pair of boots covered in metal were forced on her feet.

Else nearly drug Hawke down to the kitchen where Magister Danarius waited, attended by Fenris. The elven slave looked haggard and beaten. His clothes hung loose on him. Fenris looked as bad as she felt; broken and forced into something she didn't want. _I would have rather have grown up in Ferelden or even in the Circle compared to the monstrosity that is socially acceptable here._

Hawke sat down and picked at her food as Magister Danarius babbled on about what to expect. "Always stand when the Archon is present... Make sure that your opponent is..." She couldn't focus with the possibility of her death happening in a matter of hours.

As if she had no control, Hawke felt Else leading her away and into a carriage. Danarius and Hadriana were crammed in with her inside the carriage. Fenris, Else and Orana - Hadriana's slave- sat on the back plank. It bounced and bounded along the cobblestones as they set off.

The city of Minrathous housed a large arena that was commonly used for the entertainment of the Magisters who preferred being entertained by slaves fighting wild beasts or some other bloody game. The coliseum was oval shaped from what Hawke could see as she peered out the open window of the carriage. Feeling the humid sea air on her face, Marian Hawke felt alive, a feeling she didn't want to lose.

After what felt like an eternity inside the carriage, it came to a lurching sudden. Hawke was thrown into Hadriana and Magister Danarius found himself on the floor. He growled with anger as he pushed himself up and slammed the carriage door open to yell at the coachman.

Hadriana straightened her skirts and beamed at Hawke. "That was quite unpleasant, wasn't it?" Her painted face cracked as she smiled and the red on her lips looked too unnatural to be attractive.

Hawke grimaced and settled herself on the plush cushions. She ignored Hadriana as she pushed her head and most of her torso out of the window. From what she could see, there appeared to be a struggle with a merchant and a blonde man dressed in the tattered remains of a mage robe. He had a Ferelden look about him, possibly a refugee mage seeking freedom. _It's not any freer here, dear mage. We are prisoners also. Prisoners with riches that go to parties, but it's the same here._

"What's going on?" Hadriana demanded loudly.

"Looks like a refugee mage stole something," Hawke responded. She could see Danarius handing coins over to the merchant. The refugee looked shocked and his outraged cries were heard over the noise of the street.

"A slave! You can't just hand a man some coins and call me a slave!"

"I can if that man is a thief. It was death or this for you," came Danarius's voice. There was a shifting as the man squeezed in with the elves on the back plank. "Get yourself back in the carriage, Marian! You're a civil woman, not a child."

Hawke looked abashed as the carriage moved on. Hadriana's endless chatter filled the rest of the ride to the coliseum.

When they arrived, the sun wasn't even near noon. The Chantry bells rang hauntingly in the sky. Seagulls and pigeons surrounded the area looking for scraps. A man in a large black robe approached them. "Marian Hawke," Danarius stated and the man nodded, motioning for Hawke to follow.

"Girl, you better win. I have good coin on you," Danarius spoke in her ear before he released her. She nodded and followed the man towards the towering stone columns that supported the structure. He led her towards a side hall.

Hawke watched slaves running about on errands through the hallways. The white stone floor showed off her reflection. _I look like death. Hopefully that won't prove to be true._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just a warning, this chapter is a little graphic. Just a little blood and stuff. It's un-beta read only because I'm too excited to share it. Thank you to everyone who is reading and etc. Constructive criticism is welcome. **

As Marian Hawke stood in the dirt floor of the coliseum, running her hand along the smooth wood of her staff, she couldn't help but look up at Fenris's figure that was up high on one of the balconies. That shock of white hair was easy to spot as he attended to the Magisters' and other mages.

The coliseum was made of white and grey streaked marble that sparkled in the morning light. It had large archways and was decorated with the story of the First Blight. Carved mages that stood beneath the Golden City stared at her and gave Hawke an eerie feeling. She focused her attention to the man the stood before her and the twenty-some other mages so she could try and shake the feeling.

"In short, its kill or be killed. Really not much of a speech, huh?" The man laughed loudly as he paced before them. "Just wait for the gong and you can murder each other."He was a large and slightly overweight man. Marian felt he was too jovial for the situation

"Hey! Three minutes, man! Get your butt out of there!" Called a voice from above the dirt floor. He left, still laughing and she glanced at the other mages'. Hawke didn't recognize any of them. The moved around the arena from each other as Hawke just stood there. People in the crowd cheered loudly.

Hawke chewed on her lip as she stood prostrate, breathing slowly. She stared up at the sky and ravens circled above. Gulping out of nervousness, Hawke shuffled slightly. _Well, if I walk out here alive- _The gong ran. _Well, Maker-damn it._

Hawke stood with her staff before her, clenched tightly in her delicate hands. The other mages had broken off in pairs fighting each other and there was the occasional cheering that kept getting louder and louder. And yet, amiss the chaos, she continued to stand there, simply watching. It was like staring at a painting of a great battle, except she stood right in the middle of it.

A young man moved towards her, obviously scared. He has a fearful look in his eyes that were clouded with the desire to kill; the desire to live. "I'm sorry," Hawke mumbled. She lifted her staff and the boy charged towards her, expecting a spell to be casted at him. Hawke swung her staff towards his head with all of her strength. The wooden pole connected loudly with the young man's skull that caved around the staff. Gore encompassed it as she tried to bite back the bile rising from her throat.

Quickly, ignoring the loud cheers from her kill, she moved away, now feeling the same desperation to live as the young man had. It was pure instinct that was truly animalistic. Hawke oddly felt alive.

Magic flew through the air. The Fade's energy being connected to her hummed in her veins like the vibrations from violin strings; sweet yet chilling. Hawke faced her next opponent, and the next, and what felt like everyone else in the arena. She felt the tired ache in her body and the pain from her injuries from the others' attacks. She was no longer sure who's blood was splattered on her body. Every now and then she would glance up and try and find Fenris in the crowd, which only made her angry.

Those nights after he had attacked her in the library haunted her. The rejection sung its painful song in her body and brain until she found herself feeling self-destructive. When she had hit her breaking point - the night Hadriana had forced her to reject Fenris in return- Marian Hawke found herself stealing wine and liquor bottles and drank to the point she blackout and found her rooms stinking of vomit and burning objects. Else hadn't asked questions, but just cleaned and hid Hawke's drunken rage.

When she had seen him around the mansion she tried to ignore his presence. Those moments had only made her alcoholism even worse.

It was like a lifetime on the battlefield for her until she stood before a woman who was covered in the gore of others and her own. Hawke knew she didn't look too much different from the other woman. She stood tall and blonde and her actions of murder created madness so deep in it, it plagued her face. The dead bodies that littered the dirt made Hawke grit her teeth. The blonde crept towards her, bloody staff held like it was keeping her alive.

Huffing, Hawke glared at the blonde woman as she felt a spell of fire erupt from her staff. The fire twisted and twirled towards the other woman who simply stepped aside to avoid the flames and returned the spell quickly. Hawke looked down, black hair in her eyes as she watched the ground below her wrap around her legs. Pulling her legs upwards made the earth around them grow tighter. Panic rose in Hawke's chest which made it hard to breathe. She looked up to see the blonde woman smile as she launched another spell towards Hawke.

Ducking, Hawke managed to avoid the spell only to realize that her magical energy was nearly depleted and assumed the other woman's was near her limit. During the battle she noticed that the blonde woman had been casting spells without abandon. _She must be as exhausted as I am._

Angry that her spell had missed, she stalked towards Hawke. Weariness filled her slow and ungraceful movements. She was obviously at her limit. Matted golden locked covered her face and jerked with every limping step. The cheers from the crowd were becoming deafening.

Breathing deeply, trying to calm herself, Hawke tried to reach inside herself to draw the last of her magic reserve. Growling, Hawke cursed loudly, "Andraste's Maker-damned ass!"

"Aw. Has the little mage run out of energy?" The tone was mocking and reminding her of Hadriana. Hawke sniffed, smelling the blood and decay around her. The shock and adrenaline that was keeping her going was ebbing away. Bile rose in her throat and Marian lost her stomach contents. "Can't handle the gore, my dear? Looks like someone never got the hang of blood magic."

_It is death for me. _Looking upwards towards Magister Danarius's balcony she could see Fenris staring down at her. She knew she wanted to die looking at him and not at the woman who was about to murder her.

That's when several things happened that Hawke would later call a gift from the Maker. From the balcony Hawke watched Fenris throw something towards her and it landed with a soft _thud!_ in the dirt a few feet away from her. Glancing over towards the blonde woman, Hawke nearly screamed when she felt a hand brush her throat and a blade making its way across her cheek and nose.

The blood rushed down her face making her mouth taste metallic. She spat it onto the other woman's face with a smirk. Stunned for a brief moment the woman stood there looking confused at Hawke. Diving down towards whatever Fenris's has thrown she felt the earth around her break away due to the break in the other mage's concentration.

Grunting as she landed in the hard dirt, Marian Hawke scrambled for the object as the other woman ran towards her. Panting loudly, Hawke continued to crawl until her hand closed around the object. It's shape and weight felt familiar.

It felt like her father's necklace. _Fenris must've found it and kept it. Why would he keep it?_

A rough hand flipped Hawke around so she looked up from the ground at the blonde woman. Her blade was smeared with Hawke's blood and glittered menacingly in the sunlight. Hawke's eyes widened. Fear and panic kept rising in her to the point where she couldn't move. She shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the pain from the woman's blade.

That pain never came, only screams of pure agony. The other mage was wrapped in dancing flames that covered her entire body.

_So it was made of lyrium after all. _The magical surge swelled in her hand. Hawke pushed herself up, reached for the blade on her belt. She felt its weight in her hand as she tightly grabbed the pommel and flung it was the flame covered mage.

It flew through the air swiftly and landed perfectly in Hawke's target; the woman's head. Her body fell roughly on the dirt and screams erupted from the crowd. Several people rushed into the arena: they lifted Hawke up, collected bodies and lead a weary Hawke away.

When she awoke, several hours later, she realized that it hadn't been a dream. The room she was in was carved out of white and grey marble. Her clothes, a new staff and necklace sat on a chair in the corner of the room. A fireplace was lit, warming the room and a full wash basin was against the wall directly in front of it. Hawke peeled the blankets back to see that the worst of her injuries had been healed. Reaching up and touching her face, she realized that the cut on her nose and cheek remained.

After bathing and redressing, Hawke noticed that there was a small folded piece of paper that had been hastily stashed under her belongings. Curious, she unfolded it. On it, there were several crude drawings. One was of Hawke in what looked like the herbalism lab working which was next to a horrible drawing of her father's necklace near what looked like a foot.

_Andraste's panties! Who drew this crap?_ Hawke mused, as she stared at the first two drawings. She looked over to the next sketches: Hadriana looking angry, Hawke working on her research, Several wine bottles next to a tree (It looked like the area from the party), Fenris's room with his trunk circled several times. She then gasped as she saw the final drawing. It was of Fenris standing on the balcony throwing the necklace. _Whomever this is, they know some details they shouldn't. _

Sitting below the final drawing on Fenris was writing that looked like a child's writing. _"Mihi dolet." _

"I'm sorry?" Hawke breathed. Tears stung at her eyes as she stared at the two words. "Maker curse it, Fenris. Why didn't you tell me?"

IOI

"Have you ever wondered what life would be like without being a slave?" The blonde man asked, looking towards Fenris. His blonde hair felling into his amber eyes as he scrubbed aimless at the marble floor.

The elf looked up at the man, "No, mage, I have not,"

"My name is, Anders, I've already told you this. And, really life is full of better things than being enslaved and doing whatever else you do. I mean, I've escaped from the Circle and I plan on escaping tonight," he spoke as if it was casual conversation.

"You are telling me this, why?" Fenris continued to stare at Anders.

"Something to do," Anders shrugged. He stood up and stretched, dropping the brush he was using. "What is going on between you and Magister Hawke?"

Fenris bit his lip and glared up ay Anders. "I mean, I've only been here a few days and you give her puppy dog eyes-"

"I do _not_ give Magister Hawke puppy dog eyes!"

"Fine. You look at her with desire," Anders shrugged, "You know, she gives you the same look. Perhaps she could take you with her when she leaves for Ferelden."

"Quiet, mage!" Fenris felt his temper raging, but forced himself to stay calm.

"Alright, alright," Anders laughed. "A pretty girl and freedom might not be such a bad thing. I bet Magister Hawke would-"

Anders found himself on the floor bleeding from the mouth with Fenris standing above him. The lyrium tattoos' glowed on Fenris's body and Anders simply laughed. "Oh, come on! I bet my grandmother hits harder than you, elf!"

IOI

"Why won't you love me! Why? Why?! Why, Fenris? I've changed my ways. I want you to love me. It'll be our secret. I promise this time. Marian promised me she'd back off... Please, Fenris!"

Moonlight poured in through the windows of Magister Danarius's mansion. Hadriana's voice echoed through the empty halls. Tears glistened on her face and her makeup smeared in large black lines. Fenris stood before her, baggy rags hung from his body and his white hair looked limp and unhealthy. Green eyes were filled with confusion and fear; Hadriana was not to be trusted no matter what she claimed.

"Lady Hadriana," Fenris tried to make his voice steady, "I cannot. This is improper-"

Her hand connected with the side of his face and he stumbled. She kicked at his ribs and he groaned upon impact.

"Since you won't love me," she hissed into his ear, "Looks like I'll have to tell them you raped me. Your final hour is coming, slave. Too bad you didn't give me the right answer."

Fenris had forgotten that if Hadriana did have her way, others suffered...

Curled into a ball at Hadriana's feet, Fenris had never been more angry and confused in his life. Furious, he lumbered to his feet, still stunned from how quickly things were happening.

"He _RAPED _me! Someone help!" Her screams were frightening and panic added to Fenris's cocktail of intense emotions. He wanted to run away from her but the anger and panic were just too violent for him not to act on.

Hadriana kept screaming the same thing over and over, "Fenris raped me! Help!" She banged on the walls, smashed vases and did anything she could do to make as much noise as she could.

His judgment clouded due to the magnitude of this situation. Fenris watched himself phase, lyrium tattoos glowing. His arms moved of its own accorded and gripped Hadriana's shoulder tightly as he spun her around to face him. She gasped and began to scream as she looked down towards the pain that was bubbling in her chest. Fenris had his fist clenched around her frantic heart. It's beating was erratic.

"Please, no.." She begged, blood sliding down her chin as he tortured her by playing with her heart. Fenris couldn't help but grin as she fell to the floor, her heart still flickering with life in his hand. As the adrenaline wore off, Fenris heard soft footsteps behind him.

"What is going on here, Fenris?" Magister Hawke stood before him, looking ethereal in the moonlight. He dropped the heart and it rolled then stopped before Hawke's feet. She stared at him then sighed.

"I... I, uh. Magister Hawke, Hadri-" He tried to find his voice and hide the blood smeared on his hand.

"I actually saw everything. You know death will be upon you when Magister Danarius sees this," Hawke's voice was oddly calm and even. She reached down and picked up Hadriana's still warm heart. Squatting, she drew a symbol on the floor with the blood around the body and light flickered from it from the magic she set into the symbol. Hawke glanced up, "Just a precaution."

Righting herself, she moved towards him and placed her clean hand on his arm. Looking shy, she mumbled, "Fenris, run away with me. I know you do not want death as much as I. Danarius will have me killed in the morning if I don't go." Her voice was like a savior but held mystery behind it. He nodded without a second through and moved to leave the mansion.

The pair turned around only to face Magister Danarius standing before them."Naughty, naughty. Looks like an elf and a mage girl have been very, very bad." His demented smile made Hawke scream as if she herself had Fenris's hand clenched around her heart.

"Letting my slaves escape and killing my apprentice? You two have been extremely busy, I must say."

_No, this is the face of death,_ Hawke thought. She prepared herself and felt Fenris do the same. _But I will not let it come easy. _

**A/N: Don't ask me why Fenris can somewhat write. Maybe Anders helped him?**


End file.
